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Calling All The Helpers

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping. '" - Mr. Rogers



Dear friend,

In case you needed to hear this from someone today, the world needs that thing that burns in your heart. The world needs your smile. It needs your ability to lighten the mood with a good joke. It needs your passion. It needs whatever it is that makes you you. In fact, our lives depend on it. 

Sometimes it feels like our measly little efforts are a drop in an ocean of fear and hatred. Once this pandemic finally ends (if it ever does) I’m worried the aftermath will be far more destructive. When the dust settles and the headlines subside, will there be lines in the sand and fingers pointed? Or will you find a world filled with unique souls and minds setting aside their differences to rebuild something beautiful and withstanding? 

The way I see it, we have two choices. Let the fear overtake us and sweep us away with its current while we spew anger and cast blame. Unfortunately, we still end up drowning in this scenario. And any lifeguard will tell you fighting the current only wears you out faster. Or we can rise to the challenge. We can ask for help when the tide gets too strong. And when we feel up to the task, we can extend a hand to those around us who are looking weary and wrung out. 


Until we can stop believing that our voice is the only one that matters, our opinion the only one that counts, the devastation will only perpetuate. 


You guys, I am so weary. At first it was from the circumstances. The storm came strong and fast, and it didn’t take long for panic to sink in. It has now been 18 months of treading water, but it is no longer the waves depleting my strength. It’s the thousands of hands pulling me under. If I could be so bold as to suggest that fear and shame are not the life rafts that will carry us to shore. Anger may be justified, but it’s a leaky vessel.

Until we can stop believing that our voice is the only one that matters, our opinion the only one that counts, the devastation will only perpetuate.

So I’m calling all the helpers. I don’t care where you stand on controversial matters or how backed your resources are. In fact, I’m calling you to set those things aside momentarily so your hands are free to lift up someone who needs it. And don’t take too much time asking yourself who you need to be to make a difference. Just be the you that isn’t so wrapped up in anger and fear that you’ve become a shell of your true self. Right now, the world needs passionate teachers and selfless health care workers. It needs artists and actors to remind us that beauty still exists. It needs writers and readers and gardeners and honest business owners. It needs fresh art and new ideas, a reason to laugh, beauty-makers that empower, parents committed to raising up kind and godly children. It needs your compassion and your wit. All of the things that make us human.

 Because in all its irony, we’ve lost what makes us human. Our ability to listen sympathetically and love indiscriminately. Our ability to disagree and still respect the person across from us. Minds that were individually crafted to think and consume and come to unique conclusions. Minds that were NEVER meant to all be exactly the same, but ones that WERE meant to lift up and inspire, not tear down and cast blame.

I hope you’ll help. I’ve witnessed many helpers already—friends who check in regularly, prayer warriors, foster families, truth-speakers who use their platform to empower, kind strangers, meal train organizers, givers, volunteerers, and so many others. 

But until love washes over the fire of hatred and carries us safely to shore, we’ll keep drowning on burning rafts.